


Still One Outlaw Left

by MixterGlacia



Series: Hepcat History [1]
Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Body Horror, Canon-Typical Violence, Drug Use, Gore, Hurt/Comfort, Multi, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-25
Updated: 2017-01-25
Packaged: 2018-09-19 18:46:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9455630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MixterGlacia/pseuds/MixterGlacia
Summary: Hancock wasn't the best with his feelings. Too bad he was going to need them when Valentine brought a near dead survivor to his doorstep.





	1. Thanks For The Memories

**Author's Note:**

> I am trash.

There had always been two things Hancock would vividly remember about Logan. Even if he was high as a kite (and twice as funky, according to said human.) they were always clear in his mind.

The first was how he’d first met the old military man. 

* * *

 

Finn had skittered off towards the gate, which almost always meant trouble was brewing. It was just in his nature to cause issues. So Hancock followed along at a leisurely pace, wanting to give the nuisance enough time to get into trouble again. After all, he’d been itching for an excuse to snuff out the little shit for quite some time.

He could hear Finn starting up the “insurance” nonsense he seemed so fond of, and rounded the corner just in time to witness a brutal end even by Goodneighbor’s violent standards.

 

Finn was on the ground, apparently stunned by whatever had hit him. Blood was already starting to drip down his chin. Hancock’s gaze was caught by the motion of a blue baseball bat, strapped with razor blades. It arced through the cool evening air and hit home with a resounding crack, ending the town’s problem child faster than you could blink.

There was a moment where the mayor couldn’t quite process what the fuck had just happened. Then he sensed he was being watched. Hancock put on a lazy grin before he even looked up to see if he was right. (Mostly for appearances mind you.) The batter seemed to be waiting for him, like he just happened to know the ghoul was lurking nearby.

 

“Nice show of dominance, brother.” He said, knowingly standing out of range of his swing.

The mans posture calmed after that, which Hancock took as a good sign. Even going as far as putting his swatter away, before closing the distance the mayor had been fairly keen on keeping.

 

He had to admit, he was startled to see Valentine with him, though that wouldn’t be the last surprise of the day for sure. In the end, it all wound up with the man leaning on his balcony, listening to his speech to the town. He had this air of danger about him that was almost more thrilling than off putting.

“Got a name, brother?” Hancock prompted afterwards.

The man snorted, glancing from behind his dark glasses. “You can call me Paddy, sir.”

“That sounds fake.” Now it wasn’t his place to judge what folks called themselves, but he wanted to hear more of this fella’s voice and it seemed like the best option he had to achieve that goal.

“Because it is, smartass.”

 

Hancock laughed until he was wheezing, not expecting the strangers response. Rubbing at his mouth to stifle another fit of giggles, the ghoul caught a glimpse of a tin of Mentats tucked into the shoulder bag he kept close to his side.

The mayors grin went from lazy to full blown shit eating.

 

“Fair enough, friend.”

* * *

 

The next memory wasn’t quite as entertaining as the first. It’s not like it was awful but...if pressed to describe it, Hancock might have called it bittersweet. 

He’d been roaming the wastes for a good long while now, and had even learned Paddy’s real name was Logan. (He’d overheard a tiff between him and Nicky where the detective had called him by name.) He’d pestered him into pulling down the bandanna the fella wore over his face, seen the scars that split his cheeks in two. 

 

He’d even brushed a thumb over the mans lips, asked if it was okay to kiss him. Logan had pushed him away but had said that it wasn’t that he didn’t want to. He just felt uncomfortable with it at the time. He would rarely humor the ghoul and get high with him, watching the stars and telling him the names they used to be called before the world ended. He pointed to a small string and told him how he was born under those stars 40 years ago, before correcting himself. (”I mean...250? I guess? Fuck if I can keep track anymore.” He’d say.)

So when they’d drifted back to Sanctuary, Hancock felt like he’d gotten to know the man calling himself Paddy pretty damn well. Knew he had a strong distaste for confined spaces. (Said half the reason he’d shown Bobbi No-Nose zero mercy was because she’d forced him into these tiny tunnels stuffed with mirelurks.)

 

Except he didn’t know everything that made the guy tick. 

Until a wild thunderstorm rolled in that night.

 

He came in, soaked to the bone and ready to demand that Logan finally put a damn roof over the chemistry station, but the words died in his throat when he came into the bedroom. He couldn’t say he’d ever seen the human cry before, at least not really. He’d seen him get misty over his adopted kid, even over Hancock himself when he’d shared too much one night after a little too much Jet.

 

He wasn’t even sure if this counted as crying. Somewhere in the back of his mind he recalled the term would have been hyperventilating. Whatever it was called, Lo’ was curled against Nicky’s side, hands tightly clinging to the musty old coat. The detective ran his bad hand down the fella’s back, trying to soothe him but he got snapped at instead.

“I don’t need another fucking lecture Val’!” Hancock felt like he was hearing something not meant for anyone else. “I know for a -fact- that I gave you a tin of Mentats last time I was here!”

“I thought you said you weren’t a junkie.” The synth whispered harshly. “Or was that a lie?”

 

Logan’s breathing went funny before he shot up and snagged Nick’s tie, yanking it hard enough for some of the stitches to pop. “I am a grown man, Valentine. I was a -surgeon- I know about addiction, and let me tell you something-” He stammered a bit before clearing his throat. “-Sometimes it ain’t about getting high, it’s about not taking a knife an-”

Hancock’s boot nudged a bit of rubble, causing it to clatter on the tile floor.

 

All eyes were on him in an instant. He was caught, and had pretty much no way out of this situation. The ghoul couldn’t even force a grin, instead he ducked his head and sheepishly mumbled, “Sorry for, -uh-, interrupting I just...” before trailing off, unable to finish his thought.

Logan let go of Nick and waved him over. “Hancock. You’ve got Mentats on you, right?”

“I mean yeah, of course-”

“I just need one.” The man snapped, eyes burning holes through the ghoul, only made more intense by the lack of his shades.

 

Nick placed a hand on Logan’s shoulder. “Hancock, have you been pushing chems on him? You kn-”

“Nick Valentine, you fucking listen to me!” Logan shouted, startling him. The guy usually didn’t talk much at all, let alone raise his voice.

The synth in question went silent, optics flickering nervously around the room.

 

“I have an anxiety disorder.” He admitted, shakily. “After I got out of the military, I couldn’t feel safe anymore. Thunder scares the shit out of me. I don’t know why, but it does.” His hands shook a little. Hancock had to stop himself from going over and holding them to stop the trembling.

“So, “ he continued. “My shrink had me take these pills to help. It made me feel a little safer. Made it so I didn’t tear up my arms when everything got to be too much. It worked great.” He looked up, staring right at Nick. “Except now? They don’t make it anymore. So I’m wandering this gods forsaken place with no help until I find a tin of Mentats. I read the box and what did I find?” He paused to let the synth process the information for a moment.

“I found out that they shared a whole bunch of the same stuff as my old script. It’s a hell of a lot stronger, and not totally right but I decided to take one.” He took a breath. “It helped me think straight again. Let me logic my way out of the attacks. So, yeah.” His tone became bitter again. “Call me an addict all you want Nicky-Boy. I keep Addictol’s on me just in case I do go too far. But you are going to hand over that tin or I’m going to get one from Hancock because I just want to be able to -sleep- tonight.” 

 

Hancock found himself walking over, cautiously sitting on the edge of the bed, waiting to be shouted at or grabbed. That didn’t happen. He heard a rattle and saw that Nick had fished out the tin of chems from his pocket. There was no hesitation as he slipped it into Logan’s hand. Then the synth tugged him into a tight hug. He’d almost missed what he said to the man.

 

“I’m sorry. Just...please just be careful, Lo’.”

The human slipped a single tablet under his tongue with practiced ease. Then he lightly pressed his forehead to Nick’s.

“I will, Val’.”

 

 

It wasn’t the kind of thing you’d tell your kids but those memories were precious to Hancock. Almost more precious than the first time Logan had kissed him. The first time he’d admitted that he’d fallen hard for the ghoul. He’d been fondly recounting them to Fahrenheit, after the man had asked him to stay in Goodneighbor while he and Nicky went to the Glowing Sea to track down his adopted kid. 

One of his guards burst through the door, eyes wide. “Boss, you’ve gotta’ get to the gate fast!”

“What’s going down this time?” He said, a hint of teasing in his tone.

“It’s Nick-he’s got that human of yours and-and” the guard stumbled over his words, swallowing hard. “He’s hurt real bad.”

 

Hancock wasn’t ready for this. Not ready at all.


	2. Jack Be Lethal, Jack Be Slick

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We did it. We climbed this whole nasty mountain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Vomiting, Gore, Body Horror, General Grossness.

Hancock was in a panic. Which was understandable given that his...boyfriend? He wasn’t totally sure what to call this relationship, but that was totally irrelevant. What mattered was he was hauling ass to the town gate because he was hurt.

The ghoul tripped over the doormat, catching himself on the frame. He was shaking as he continued. When he saw the front gate, he froze in place. 

Right away he knew that this wasn’t going to go away with a few stimpacks and some Med-X.

* * *

 

He could hear Nick distantly explaining what happened, but it didn’t register. The Watch was hunting down a doctor, since the usual go to was currently gasping for air, drifting in and out of consciousness. Hancock dragged an old rickety hospital bed out of Daisy’s place trying to focus on the task at hand.

It was difficult when he could hear the awful sounds going on outside. 

 

He called out to Nick, helping him pull Logan onto the gurney, trying to be as gentle as possible. It was difficult due to the extent of the burns. He knew those, they were from radiation. He’d seen these all before, and usually they didn’t mean anything other than bad news.

There were folks starting to gather and Daisy was struggling to shoo them away. While Hancock tried to make the man more comfortable, Nick went out and threatened them until they gave up, and left them in peace. 

 

Thank fuck they did because Logan’s guts picked that moment to try and escape via his mouth. The mayor grabbed his belt, barely keeping him from toppling off the bed. He pulled him back, heart wrenching when the human gave a wet cry of pain.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, love, I’m so sorry.” He whispered, voice unsteady. How in the fuck could he fix this? -Could- he fix it? What happened if- 

“Boss, the doctors here!” 

Hancock looked up, still keeping a careful hold on the man. 

 

He’d seen this lady before, though she’d never ventured into Goodneighbor. He remembered Logan introducing them, but her name escaped him.

She was presently downing a dose of RadAway, and pulling on rough looking gloves. He flinched, knowing how painful those were going to be on burn wounds. She glared at him, until he realized he was going to need to move for her to work. He made sure she had a grip on her patient before moving away.

 

There was this nasty stone of dread that had settled in his gut and it wasn’t helped when the woman told Hancock that he’d need to wait outside until she came back for him. His feet felt like lead as he shuffled out of Daisy’s place, looking up to see Nick on one of the benches, staring off into space.

He wanted to scream, he wanted to hit him or demand to know what he’d done. He wanted to take his knife and rip into him until he couldn’t move anymore. 

He couldn’t. As he walked up, the rage just fell away with every step, until he was right in front of the synth and just felt hollow. He just shakily sank to the ground, leaning forward, resting his arm on the detectives knees. 

 

Nick trembled a bit, bad hand spamming.

“What -happened-, Nick?” It sounded so painfully weak.

 

“We weren’t ready.” 

Hancock looked up at him, and was thrown for a loop by how distressed the bot managed to look. He wasn’t usually one for strong displays of emotion, given the nature of his face. Yet he managed to just look...broken.

It took a moment for Nick to continue.

 

“We were going to the Glowing Sea. We didn’t have his-” The synth’s voice crackled with static.

“The suit.” Hancock prompted. “His rad suit?”

“Y-Yeah. We had accidentally left it behind.” His hands shook, fingers digging into the slots of the bench. “He decided we had enough anti-rad drugs on us and-...” He looked up as the sounds of someone being violently ill echoed from the temporary medical center.

“It was too much.” He said with finality. 

Hancock took Nick’s hands, holding them firmly. They stayed like that for a long time, just trying to stay grounded.

 

Eventually the doctor called them back in. Nick refused to go and stayed outside. So the ghoul went ahead, glancing back to be sure that he wasn’t just going to vanish like he had so many times before. Then he looked back to the medic. 

“So you’re aware that you have two, -maybe- three possible results here, right?” She sounded so angry. Why was -she- bothered? She’d be getting payed. She was an ass as far as he cared.

“I guess, yeah...”

“He’s going to die or turn ghoul.” She cut him off, firmly. “-And-, even if he turns, he has a 50/50 shot of being feral. Do you understand where I’m going with this?”

Hancock frowned. “You might wanna’ give me a hint, sister.”

 

“There is a very high likely hood that he is going to die. If there’s things you need to say, you should do it now.”

 

He wouldn’t say his world shattered but it was coming very close. He just nodded a little, and she excused herself. There wasn’t much more she could do. He told her to find Daisy, that she’d give her payment and then went back to Nick.

The synth would only come to the threshold, he couldn’t go any further. There was some ferocious  guilt forming in him that he just couldn’t shake. He couldn’t see what had happened to Logan on his watch.

 

When Hancock returned, he felt a chill run up his spine. The man was strapped to the bed and had tubes stuck into his arm. The place reeked of vomit and shit. _Death._  He corrected himself. _It smells like death._

He pulled a chair from the back and went to the bedside. The restraints looked so painful, but he knew why they were there. If he went feral, they’d need that security precaution. 

 

He remembered something he’d said a while ago, and his stomach turned. 

“We find a way to turn you Ghoul? We could keep this thing going for a good long time.”

 

How could he -ever- think Logan turning was a good thing? That doc’ was right. If he did turn, who’s to say he -wouldn’t- be feral? Why was this happening. Of all the ways, something as stupid as a fatal dose of rads.

The guy had always been so careful with rads. He would almost dance away from ferals, darting in when he knew he could land a hit. He kept RadAway on him all the time, sometimes using it when he honestly didn’t need it.

Yet, here he was. Shaking on a table, instructions for how to fix up his IV taped to the drip stand. 

Hancock took his hand, lacing his fingers with the man he’d actually talked about spending many years with. 

He laid he head down on the edge of the bed, and waited.

* * *

 

Hancock was both hopeful and horrified when Logan’s skin began sloughing off. On one hand, this was one of the signs of becoming a ghoul. On the other hand, it was one of the signs of becoming a ghoul. He ended up having to administer Med-X to stop the man from thrashing (As much as he was able.) in the bed. 

They called on the doctor (Anderson, as she was called apparently) again, asking about the blood loss. She told them that this was part of radiation poisoning. There was nothing to really do for it. She’d looked him over and told them that, while he was out of the woods as far as direct death, since it had been a week and he was still breathing, the chance of him being feral was still a very real threat.

 

When she left he went over to where Nick had set up his chair, just inside the place. (It had started raining so he was forced to go in.) He carefully put his hand on the synth’s shoulder.

“Nick. I think we gotta make some hard calls here.”

“...’bout what.” His voice was laced with static. 

“About Lo’. What...what happens if he goes feral Nicky.” Hancock said carefully, trying to keep calm.

 

Nick wouldn’t look up at him. So the mayor hunched down so he could read his old friend better.

“What would he want us to -do-?” He stressed, seeing the detectives optics flicker. “I...I don’t want him to suffer N-”

 

“Do you hear what you’re sayin’ John?!” Snapped the bot. “You’re-you’re talkin’ about -killing- him! Takin’ him out behind the wood shed and-and putting him down like a damn mutant hound!” He lapsed a little more into his accent, voice box stuttering.

“You want him to be feral Nick? Is that what you’re asking me to do here? If we don’t do it, we have to just set him loose! He-” He struggled, his voice wavering. “He wouldn’t be Logan anymore Nicky. Just a shell, that’s all he’d be if he went that way.” He grabbed at the sleeve of the synths trench coat. “I’d do it. You wouldn’t have to see, I promise Nick. I swear it’ll be quick he won’t f-” 

 

Nick shuddered, shoulders hunching up. “I get it, I get it! Enough!” He shoved at Hancock’s shoulder. “Just let me be right now, okay?! I just...I need space...”

He backed off. Going back over to the bed he nearly jumped out of his skin.

 

Logan’s eyes were open. He was looking up at Hancock, almost waiting for him like he’d done in the past. Though his eyes weren’t the same. They weren’t like his own, they were almost...bloody? He’s not sure how to explain it. Just that it felt wrong.

He walked a little closer to him. It was one hell of a sight. His face was still a little raw from the painfully rapid scarring. He looked away, trying to pull at his restraints, squeaking in pain.

“Hey...Lo’?” 

 

The man in question glanced back up at him, and made a noise. He recognized it as a very particular noise.

It was one of the noises that ferals made to acknowledge others. Except he wasn’t acting feral. 

 

“You remember me?” He carefully took a seat, watching carefully.

Logan nodded, and Hancock’s stomach flipped.

 

 **Hancock.**  You could knock him over with a feather. **Arms hurt.**

“Huh?” There wasn’t a perfect way to translate feral, but that one was pretty clear. “You’re hurting?”

He nodded again.

“Well...I’m not sure what I can do about that...I think I can loosen them a little but I’m supposed to wait another few days before we can decide if you’re okay.”

While he seemed to accept this, the next thing he said baffled the mayor. 

**Tall hat?**

 

“Pardon me?” He said as he cautiously loosened the arm bindings a bit, tensing as he carefully eased some skin that stuck to the leather.

 **Tall, light eye, got hat.**  He was staring at Hancock like this was supposed to be obvious.

So he thought for a bit. Then it hit him. 

“You mean Nick?”

 

He nodded, and Hancock lost his mind. His sides hurt from laughing and he could faintly hear Logan chirping something along the lines of “what’s wrong” in feral.

“N-nothing, love, it’s just funny. I’ll go get him.” He stood, hearing a pleased hum from the hu- well, not he was going to have to correct the way he referred to him, wasn’t he? That is, if he really was okay and just talking like a feral.

When he went over to Nick, the synth was up and pacing. 

“Hey, Nicky. Someone wants to see you.” His tone was chipper, hopeful.

“...’Scuse me?”

“Lo’s awake and he’s asking for you.” He reached out to snag the sleeve of his coat, but Nick pulled away.

 

“No.”

“What the fuck do you mean no?” What was his problem? Hancock was pretty damn sure Nick had at least some kind of feelings for Logan. Why didn’t he want to see him?

“I...I don’t want to get my hopes up.”

In his mind that made sense. In his heart it felt all sorts of wrong. “Nick...if it does go bad, don’t you want to see him before...” He trailed off.

Nick stopped pacing and looked over at the back room where they’d set up the makeshift hospital room. His optics faded and flickered back to their normal light level. “R-right...” He murmured before taking nervous steps to the back of the shop.

Logan chirruped a greeting when he saw the synth, trying to smile before wincing from the skin splitting painfully. 

 

Hancock leaned over Nick’s shoulder. “He -uh- said hi.”

“What?” Replied the bot, glancing back at the mayor suspiciously.

“He’s not acting feral but most new ghouls talk it feral until they can get used to the interior scarring. It’s not like, a proper language? But it works.” He smirked a little, whispering against his shoulder. “You’re called “tall hat” in feral.”

Nick sighed loudly, and looked down at him. “So, you asked for me?”

 

He nodded, then looked to Hancock to translate. He clicked and grumbled for a bit before the older ghoul started to piece together what was being said.

 

“He...what he essentially says is this.” He takes a breath before continuing.

“Don’t blame yourself. I know that’s why you’ve been staying away. Yes I noticed. You did everything right, down to the last detail. You brought me here, you saved me, Nick. I know you’re scared that I’m not going to stay like this. You’re afraid I’m going to go feral. Even if I do, I need to know that you weren’t the one to blame...” He paused.

 

Logan tried to reach out to the synth.

“He wants to hold your hand Nicky.” Hancock prompts.

Shaking metal fingers slip into his scarred palm.

 

Logan hummed carefully. The other ghoul looked a little startled before he explained.

“He’s...he says he loves you Nick. He loves -both- of us.”

 

“What?” 

 

Hancock shrugged, a little lost himself. “That’s what he said.” He stopped to listen to the light sounds, then starts up again. “Says he needed us to know that.”

“I-” The detective hunched a little, shaking a little more than before. “I love you too Lo’. I don’t want you to die like thi-”

 

A harsh squawk.

“He says he’s not dead yet.”

“R-Right.” Nick laughed weakly. “Sorry. It’s a little bit of a weird situation. I don’t know what’s gonna happen but...I got the same feelings.”

Hancock smirked, leaning against Nick. “You know Nicky, I’m just letting you know it’s just gotten a hell of a lot gayer here.”

Nick elbowed him hard in the gut.

* * *

 

In the end, it did turn out alright. Eventually Logan’s voice returned to him, scratchy, but it was still him. They let him out of the bed and he was having to wear one of Hancock’s spare shirt, since it was softer than his own clothing and his skin was still painful.

He was laying in Hancock’s seldom used bed, looking over at the pair, arguing over something stupid like who gets to snuggle him first when his skin toughened up or something like that. 

 

“He’s gotten to snuggle you plenty, I figure it’s time to get my turn to snuggle Logan, yeah?”

“Yeah but I’m softer so it’ll be easier on him~”

 

“Boys.” Logan quipped. “Got a request.”

They both looked at him, waiting.

“You know how you-” He points to Hancock. “-took a new name after you turned?”

“What about it, love?”

 

“I want to go by Paddy now. If that’s okay with you two.”

 

Hancock laughs. “I’ve said this before, it still sounds fake.”

Nick speaks before anyone else can. “That’s because it -was-, smartass.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And then they kissed.


End file.
